


Clash of Beliefs

by TheLoneRebels



Category: LEGO Star Wars: The Freemaker Adventures (Cartoon), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din Finds out the Truth, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mando meets Mando, Romantic Fluff, Sabine and Ezra are like siblings, and makes a decision, rexsoka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoneRebels/pseuds/TheLoneRebels
Summary: After tracking down a solid lead regarding where his ward belongs, Din meets a Mando female that throws everything he's known or believed in upside down. It doesn't help that she's the hottest thing he's ever seen, either. Sabine doesn't know what to make of the Mando bounty hunter that brought a Yoda clone to the Ghost Order. He has some strange ideas, but she's intrigued nonetheless and she doesn't know why. Thank goodness her space brother is there to help her work it out.T for now. Rating will go up when the lemons show up! :P
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex/Ahsoka Tano, Ezra Bridger & Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger/Leia Organa, Sabine Wren/Din Djarin, Sabine Wren/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 104





	1. A New Family

**Hello there!**

**Thank you all soooooo much for checking out my story! If you like it, it's very inspiring to me if you let me know in some way, and thank you in advance for every kudos, sub, or nice review; they're my own version of caffeine. :D :D :D :D :D**

**For those who really wish I would write a one shot of their idea or would just really like to see a certain story bump up to the top of my rotation, check out the pinned post on my Facebook page, TheLoneRebel's Stories, for info. You can also find my updating schedule there and blurbs from some of my chapters. :D**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own any Star Wars characters and any OC's that resemble real people are entirely coincidental.**

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**There is an explanation of how my calendar works and a list of helpful translations for my commonly used Star Wars words in 'Flame of Hope - Everyone' if you're curious.**

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**A/N: This story happened because I was teasing my diehard Sabezra friend about how the Mandalorian would be a good match for Sabine and the next thing I knew, the idea took root and wouldn’t leave me alone. Oi.**

**To all the Sabezra (or Hanleia) shippers out there, please refrain from throwing rotten fruit or comments at the author. This was just for the fun of tormenting my friend, I’m still a Sabezra fan too. :P**

**And just for anyone who's curious, Din is roughly 5-7 years older than Sabine. She was born about halfway through the Clone Wars and he was orphaned at approximately 6-8 years old at some point during the same. (Or if you go by my non-canon calendar, there is a 5 year difference.)**

**Also, for the sake of entertainment, let's pretend that he never met Bo-Katan and her helmet removing ways. :P**

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** Clash of Beliefs **

**A New Family:**

_D93/8 ABY, Lothal_

Just as Din Djarin had been directed by the helpful maintenance worker at the Capital City spaceport, Spectre House wasn’t hard to find; it was due north of the city and right beside the comm tower.

The four story house itself was misnamed, though, as far as he was concerned; it was big enough to hide an army and elegant enough to accommodate royalty with its handsome light marbled bricks and glass windows that dominated the walls. The mansion was rectangular shaped with a central courtyard and vast sweeping lawns on all sides that transitioned seamlessly into the oceans of grassland that appeared to be the main vegetation of this planet.

“Some place, hunh?” he asked the small green child standing up in his lap and staring out with wide and curious brown eyes.

Wompie looked back at him over his shoulder as if to say, ‘That’s for sure!’

Under the cover of his helmet, Din smiled with warm affection at the child who’d become his family. His only family. “Just don’t get too used to it. I doubt we’ll be staying for long,” he warned as he brought the Razor Crest to a landing on the large duracrete pad between the mansion and the comm tower. Also on the pad was a Corellian freighter, a Mandalorian Kom’rk (which he drooled over), the distinctive fan shape of a T-6, another freighter of unknown origins, and a handful of speeders of various colours and designs. “This is probably another false lead like all of the others.”

Wompie didn’t seem to think so, since he was suddenly vibrating and humming with excitement just before he jumped off Din’s lap and rushed out of the cockpit.

Din mentally shrugged as he powered down his ship, having long ago given up on instilling any sense of discipline into the child. He’d also stopped figuratively holding his breath for the moment when Wompie would actually talk beyond an occasional chortle or gurgle like any baby would make.

Which would be fine if the child was actually a baby. But at fifty-one standard years old, Din figured Wompie should be able to talk at least a little by now. But then again, in the year that they’d been together, Wompie had only grown maybe a millimetre in height, so his mental progress was undoubtedly similar.

Not that Wompie wasn’t smart; the mischievous little bratling was definitely that.

Too much sometimes, as he was currently demonstrating by already being out of the ship and trotting through the grass with his tiny little legs going as fast as they could towards the mansion.

“Shab,” Din muttered as he rushed out of the cockpit and then slid down the ladder to catch up.

Only by the grace of his decidedly longer legs did Din manage to scoop up Wompie just before the child reached the front door of the mansion, just stopping him from rudely opening it and rushing in without a proper invitation to enter. (His small size didn’t stop him from using his weird powers to open doors whenever he felt like it.) “I get that you’re excited, little buddy, but we still have to act like civilized beings and ring the doorbell first.”

Wompie watched impatiently as Din did just that, basically bouncing in his arms.

It took a minute, but eventually the ornate double doors with beautiful gold starbirds painted on them slid to either side and a truly ancient orange topped astromech greeted them with a beeped out and rather rude, “What do you want?”

A dark grey protocol droid hurried up from within the depths of the house, chiding, “Chopper! How many times do I have to tell you to let me answer the door?!”

“Frag you, AP. I can answer the door if I want. Besides, I’m faster.”

Din’s eyebrows rose. _And this is why I don’t like droids._

“You may be faster, but you have all the tact of a bull rancor in rut,” AP grumbled before turning his focus to a Din whose mouth was twitching with reluctant amusement under his moustache. “My apologies for the rude greeting. What can I help you with?”

“I’m looking for an Ahsoka Tano and something called the Ghost Order? An old pirate called Hondo directed me here. Is this the right place?”

Din got the sense that AP would have smiled if he could have. “It is! Are you a Force Wielder or Jedi Purge survivor?”

He blinked at the words that he was now familiar with thanks to his research into what Wompie was. “Ah… No. But my ward is.”

Both droids focused on the now very, very still Wompie, who was staring back at the droids with his big eyes; assessing them for edibility, maybe.

“Interesting.” AP said with a slight tilt to his head. “I thought that species was extinct.”

“From what I’ve discovered so far, it is,” Din said somewhat grimly. Which is why he’d sucked it up and started looking for the Jedi instead in his quest to find a place where Wompie belonged. “The Empire wiped out the last known colony. My ward might very well be the last one.”

“That is most unfortunate,” the protocol droid said with sympathy. “But come. I’ll take you to Master Tano. She welcomes all Force sensitives into her Order without judgement. I’m sure she will love your ward and he’ll fit right in with the other younglings.”

Din followed the protocol droid into the house, through a massive foyer and down a bright side hallway that bordered the central courtyard, all the way to the back. (The astromech took a different hallway, beeping something about getting the others.) AP opened a door to what ended up being a massive training gymnasium that ran the whole length of the back of the house and was also the entire four stories tall.

At this end of the gym, a beautiful orange skinned Togrutan wearing a light grey, short sleeved armorweave tunic and leggings, and what he’d swear were beskar elbow length vambraces and belt/skirt was teaching a class of assorted ages and species that ranged from six years old to fully grown adults on what looked like the basics of how to wield a laser sword, with each student copying the slow and deliberate moves of her white lightsabre. In the middle, a half dozen people had paired off and were play fighting each other with their glowing and zipping blue or green sabres. And at the far end of the gym, two more opponents were almost literally flying at each other as they duelled with what looked like deadly seriousness. 

The dark blue haired male was clearly a Jedi (or just Force Wielder) with how he leapt and spun in the air far beyond what a normal Human was capable of as he wielded his blue lightsabre with skilled ease. But the female fighting with a green sabre might not be, considering she was wearing a nearly full set of (eye-catchingly colourful) beskar armour and using a jetpack to keep up with the male’s lightning fast moves.

Regardless of whether she was a Jedi or not, Din thought the slim Mando female was magnificent; comparable to the Armorer’s skill level with a weapon, at least. And while he thought the multicoloured armour was beautiful and somehow suited her, it defied the traditional muted colours that were allowed on Mando armour by light-years.

His brief contemplation of the colourful female was interrupted when the Togruta paused her lesson only seconds after their arrival by deactivating her lightsabre and turning her focus on Din, Wompie, and AP. 

She smiled at Din as she hooked her lightsabre on her beskar belt/skirt. “Everyone!” she called loud enough for the whole gymnasium to hear. “He's here!”

_Who's here? Me? Wompie? AP? Why is she excited about any of those options and how would she even know to be excited about the first two anyway?_

The beginner group turned around nearly in sync to gawk at Din and Wompie, and the intermediate group ceased their duels to join the group. The two duelling at the far end of the gym seemed too engrossed in their combat to be willing to stop, good natured taunts filling the air now that the rest of the space was silent.

“Is that all you got, Ez? Or are you holding back on me again?”

“Not a chance, Sabs.” The man backed it up by throwing his left hand out and pushing her backwards without touching her. She leaned into it and only a moment later was using her jetpack to counteract the Force push, flying right back at him with her lightsabre raised.

Their laser swords clashed and flew almost faster than the eye could follow as the duel continued

“That’s better. And how many times do I have to tell you not to call me Sabs?”

The man grinned, tossing his head to get a long lock of hair out of his eye that had come loose from the tail at his nape as he casually blocked a swipe that would have gutted him if he’d been a fraction slower. “Only a few thousand more, probably. Thick skull and all, you know.”

“Gah!”

The Togruta glanced at them and then sighed, shaking her head slightly as her mouth quirked up with wry amusement, giving them up for a lost cause for now. She walked straight towards Din, her students parting for her and then closing the gap as necessary. She came to a stop in front of him and nodded politely. “Hello. Welcome to the Ghost Order. I am Ahsoka Tano and I’m the Grand Master here. I'm pleased that you have found your way to us. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Din blinked. “You have?”

Her smile was incredibly serene and soothing. “Yes, Mando, I have. Aside from the fact that Hondo told Ezra a Mandalorian was headed our way, this one…” she reached out a hand and stroked the back of her fingers over Wompie’s cheek, eliciting a purring sound from him, “…has been in my dreams lately.” She held out her arms and Wompie jumped into them for a cuddle, his eyes closing in contented joy as she affectionately nuzzled her nose against his forehead. “Haven’t you, little one? Did you miss me?”

Din could probably be knocked over by a feather right now. _Holy shab! This Force stuff is even more powerful than I thought! And why do they seem like they know each other?_

She returned her all-seeing blue gaze to Din’s. “Grogu's been very eager to get here. He says your ship is too slow.”

“No its… Wait, he talked to you? And what do you mean Grogu?”

Tano laughed softly. “Not in full sentences, per se, but the images he sends are very clear. His genetic template was one of the strongest Jedi in the galaxy for nearly nine-hundred years; it is no surprise to me that his clone would also exhibit talented Force powers."

 _What the hell?_ _Wompie's a clone?!_

She continued, oblivious to his surprise, or just ignoring it. (To be fair, his face was covered and It's not like he'd moved or anything.) "As for Grogu, that's his name. Or it was...” She studied the gurgling child in her arms. "Is your name still Grogu, little one?"

Din didn't know what to make of this, so he only watched with avid curiosity as his adopted son shook his head slowly in one of the most clear intelligent responses he'd ever displayed. 

"It's not?"

Wompie shook his head again. 

Tano looked back up at Din with a raised eye marking. "He says he likes the name you gave him better."

Din flushed with dismayed pleasure, once again glad he was wearing his helmet to hide a display of emotion inspired by the kid who had wormed his way into his previously cold heart. "I... didn't mean to name him. But I called him a little womp rat a few times too many and he started to respond to it and the next thing I knew, I was calling him Wompie."

Tano laughed softly as the child looked back at him with a smug expression. "Wompie it is, then. It suits him more than Grogu anyway, I think, mischievous creature that he is." 

_Now there's an understatement,_ Din thought with a mental snort. "How did you know his previous name?"

The woman smiled sadly. "Wompie was raised in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant at the same time I was, though I was technically 'older', at least in terms of development. Until he started sending me dreams last week, I thought he'd been murdered along with all the other younglings in the Temple when the Republic fell. Someone must have rescued hi..." Her voice faded away as she looked down at Wompie with a startled expression. "Force, no," she breathed, tears welling in her broken sky orbs.

"What is it, Master?" an older teenage boy asked, stepping up beside Tano, worry clear on his pale brown face. 

"It's my old Master, Rowan," she said softly. "He's the one who took Wompie from the Temple. 

The assembled nearly gasped as one. "Vader?" the boy called Rowan asked. 

"Yes." Her affirmation was so quiet, it was barely audible even with the advanced sensors in his helmet. Wompie laid his head against her chest in a show of mutual comfort, and she hugged the child tightly, eyes closing as a few tears fell on his wrinkled head.

Din may have been ignorant about the Jedi until recently, but even he'd heard of Darth Vader; the being in a black armoured suit who'd nearly single handedly brought the galaxy to heel for the Emperor. The fact that Vader had once trained this woman made him instantly both respect her and put him on alert. _If one Jedi can turn into a galactic nightmare, than so can another. Actually... some of the things Wompie has done weren't exactly nice either. He really does need training. I just hope Tano is the right person to do it and I haven't made a mistake._

After a minute of sorrow filled silence, she looked up, blinking her eyes clear. "My former Master, who fell to the Dark side, took Wompie, and after slaughtering the others... promptly gave him to Palpatine. His memories are vague after that, but Wompie associates the Emperor with darkness and pain." 

Even Din was on the verge of tearing up at her broken whispers. This new information also helped paint a clearer picture regarding why so many people were after his son. "The Emperor's minions are still trying to get him back," Din said solemnly. "We've been hunted non-stop since I found him."

Tano sucked in a breath and her expression and stance hardened into the set determination of a warrior. "I won't let that happen."

Din believed her. "I'm holding you to that. Just out of curiosity, how do you know Wompie is a clone?"

Tano’s set expression slowly melted into a rueful smile. “I have a lot of experience with clones and I was all but raised by this one’s template. They never said so at the Temple, wanting to keep it a secret I assume, but Wompie feels just like Master Yoda in the same way that the Republic clones were echoes of each other and yet all slightly different.”

“You fought in the Clone Wars,” Din said, respect for this woman was growing by Force enhanced leaps and bounds.

“I did.” She didn’t sound particularly proud of it and her eyes darkened with remembered pain.

From what little he remembered of that time, he thought he understood; the droids murdered everything in their path, meaning she had undoubtedly lost many people close to her during the war, just like he had.

“Only one good thing came from that time,” she said softly as the door opened behind him. Her smile grew and a look of unabashed love filled her gaze as she looked at someone behind him.

Hearing more than one set of footsteps, Din turned his head and watched with surprise as six nearly identical men walked in followed by a gorgeous light green Twi’lek, the snarky old astromech, a blond Human male of middle years with a fit military bearing that his civilian clothes couldn’t hide, and lastly, a purple striped Lasat, of all things. _Another species that the Empire didn’t quite manage to wipe out._

One of the forty to fifty-something looking clones came all the way forward and wrapped his arm around Tano’s waist possessively. He had a neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard and moustache that didn’t match the dyed blond buzz cut on top of his head at all, but the look seemed to work for him anyway. The clone kissed Tano’s temple in greeting and then looked down at Wompie contemplatively. “There’s no way that Master Yoda was ever that cute.”

Tano laughed. “The evidence demonstrates otherwise.”

“You’re sure he’s a clone?” The Human clone still sounded like this wasn’t possible.

“Pretty sure.”

“All right. If anyone would know, it’s you.”

Tano smirked at her mate. “Experience outranks everything.”

The clone huffed, rolling his golden brown eyes even as his mouth twitched upwards.

“Force, is she still using that one on you, Rex?” the dark blue haired young man said as he approached with the bright Mando female at his side; their duel must have ended while he was distracted. _Blast. I would have liked to see who won._

“At least once a year,” Rex laughed. “Our first conversation will be replayed until the day I finally kick the bucket and then she’ll probably put it on my tombstone.”

Tano grinned as the others laughed. “You know it, Rex'ika.”

Din raised an eyebrow at the Mando'a endearment. _But then again, she does have beskar armour pieces and there's another Mando here who doesn't appear to object, soooooo, that makes her a strange sort of foundling, maybe?_

Once the assembled had sobered somewhat, Ahsoka raised Wompie up in the air a bit for all to see. “So, everyone, this is Wompie, which is short for womp rat because he’s a cheeky little nerfherder, so he’ll fit right in with us.”

The group chuckled while some of the younger children looked like they wanted to play with Wompie this instant as they all but danced in their boots, but some sort of discipline was keeping them more or less still. A bright green haired boy of about eight years had sidled over to the one called Ez _(also probably the aforementioned Ezra)_ and was looking up at him as if he could do something about his wait. Ez merely grinned down at the child, mouthed, ‘patience’, and ruffled his shaggy, possibly dyed hair, temporarily revealing pointed, green tipped ears that labelled him as a hybrid. _I’m thinking the hair is natural._

Tano continued on, turning her gaze to Din. “And this is Wompie’s protector and family.” She ended on an inviting note, but left it up to him if he wanted to fully introduce himself or not.

 _Considering I’m probably going to be spending a lot of time with these people, I guess I should._ His ingrained training said otherwise, but he ignored it; family were allowed to know his name like Greef and Cara did. “Din Djarin, Clan Mudhorn.”

“It is nice to meet you, Din,” Tano said with an approving smile. He got the sense that she’d known his thoughts, which only unsettled him a little after all the other crazy things he’d seen already. “And now for everyone else.” She nodded to her right. “This is my mate, Commander Rex Tano.”

The men exchanged nods. Rex’s eyes were serious now, and he had a galaxy’s worth of experience and weight in them. _That man has seen and done a lot, no question._

“As you’ve probably noticed, Rex and his brothers are clones. They’ve only recently started a series of shots to reverse some of their accelerated aging, so they’re still a decade or two older looking than they should be, but it’s already improved.” Tano sounded very pleased with this, but there was something in the look on her face as she looked at her mate that told Din she would have taken Rex no matter how much older he looked than her, nor how short his life expectancy was. _That’s a soulmate pairing if I’ve ever seen one. Now the 'ika makes more sense._

Tano tore her gaze away from Rex’s adoring one and indicated the next oldest looking clone that had a wicked scar around his left eye. “This is Marshall Commander Cody. We found him still slaving away for the Empire on Endor as a mere trooper.”

“Di'kute,” Rex muttered, making Cody and his other brothers laugh.

Tano shook her head at Rex, grinning. “The Empire would have won that battle if Cody was in charge of the ground assault, so it’s a good thing he wasn’t.”

“True.”

“Thanks, Sir,” Cody said, grinning at Tano, apparently unable to give up old titles.

“You’re welcome, Cody.” She indicated the next clone in line. He had a scar right through his right eye that had resulted in a robotic replacement. “This is Commander Wolffe. Rex and I rescued him from the Empire’s clutches not long after the war ended. He was slated for execution for going AWOL after refusing to hunt down any more Jedi.”

Din nodded at the grizzled veteran.

“The last three brothers are Canny, Lister, and Colter, the only other clones still alive that we’ve found so far.”

More nods.

“Canny was an ISB agent, Lister was a Captain in the still infamous 501st under Darth Vader, and Colter was Captain of a Star Destroyer.”

Din was impressed with all of the clones’ credentials. He had a feeling that every single one of them would by a worthy match in a hand to hand bout despite their aging bodies. 

Tano moved on with her intros, indicating the Twi’lek. “And this is General Hera Syndulla. She’s everyone’s mother whether you like it or not and no matter your age.”

Hera smiled warmly at him and Din thought he wouldn’t mind getting some TLC from her in whatever form she wanted, whether it be food, hugs, or something more. Especially considering none of the men here seemed to be her mate. “That’s not exactly true,” she said in a pleasing alto voice, shaking her head at Tano and sending her lekku swinging. “It would be correct to say that I make sure everyone eats when they should, but I definitely don’t tuck the lot of you into bed at night or read you stories.”

The group laughed. 

“I keep telling you that I wouldn’t mind,” the blond male said only just sort of jokingly.

Hera rolled her eyes at him. “Keep dreaming, Alex. You know that my heart belongs to this one.” She held up an arm and the green haired hybrid he’d noticed earlier darted under it to hug her waist, grinning up at her.

“Yep! My Mama!”

Hera grinned back down, bending to kiss the top of his head. “That I am, squirt. Yours and yours alone.” There was a hint of pain at the end of her words that hid a deeper meaning, he was sure.

He came up with two possible answers.

One, she couldn’t have any more children for medical reasons, or two, she wouldn’t have any more children because she’d lost her mate and had no desire to find another one.

_I’m betting on the second. Which means I’ll be happy with some homecooked food and call it good._

Tano was smiling at the duo. (She smiled at everyone, really.) “That’s Jacen. He’s going to be Ezra’s Padawan when he’s older.”

“Yep!” Jacen nodded quickly, running back to the blue haired man’s side and hugging his waist. “My Master!”

Din only knew the word because of his scanty research on the Jedi; it meant apprentice. “Good for you,” he said as if he really cared, drawn into the boy’s infectious joy.

Ezra ruffled his hair again fondly. "Some day, squirt. For now, let's stick with big brother."

"If I must," Jacen pouted playfully.

"You must."

Now Din was wondering if Syndulla was a decade or so older than she looked and had two children. Their eyes were the same royal blue and they both had coloured hair. _But Ezra's ears aren't pointed and he has no other Twi'lek characteristics, so who knows? Maybe he's adopted._

Tano skipped ahead in the rough circle of people she'd been following to the possible siblings. “That’s Ezra Bridger, a Ghost Knight and recently rescued from the depths of the Unknown Regions where he got himself lost for six years. Rex and I spent much of that time looking for him between the odd mission for the Rebellion.”

“Hey!” Ezra protested. “I wasn’t lost exactly. I just had no way to get back home.”

“Oh, you were definitely lost,” the Mando female said, nudging her elbow into Ezra’s side before focusing her visor on Din. “Ezra was stuck on a planet with no sentients, living out of a shuttle that had no fuel left, and only a vague idea of which way was home.

“Sounds like lost to me,” Din said teasingly. 

“Glad you agree,” she said smugly. Then the female did something that completely shocked him.

And when he heard who she was, it shocked him even more.

She took off her helmet and tucked it under her arm.

Din gawked at the twenty-something woman as she shook out her emerald and sapphire dyed hair so it fell into a neat bob around her face as she walked towards him. “I’m Sabine, by the way. Lady Sabine Wren of Clan Wren, House Vizsla.”

The heir to her clan held out her arm to clasp his wrist in a traditional greeting between Mandalorian warriors and he automatically returned the gesture. But under his helmet, he was staring at her with wide eyes for two reasons.

First, she was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen, possessing absolutely mesmerizing amber eyes, high cheekbones, a delicate but determined jaw, and perfect bow shaped lips.

Second. She’d taken off her helmet in front of other living people.

According to the beliefs that he’d been taught, that meant she could never put it back on or call herself a Mandalorian again.

_Why would she give that up just to greet me?_


	2. Clearing Up Misconceptions

**Clearing Up Misconceptions:**

During all of the introductions so far, Sabine had been admiring the superb craftsmanship of the Mando male’s beskar armour. There wasn’t a speck of paint on it, which she’d almost never seen before, but the all silver look worked for him, even if it did make him dangerously shiny and reflective. _Man must be awful confident in himself to gallivant around the galaxy like a walking target._

_Or just very stupid._

The third option of rich and stupid was nixed based on the state of his weather-beaten and much abused cape. It was, once again, something that wasn’t seen very often, since capes don’t work well with jetpacks ( _that could explain the state of it)_ and could be liabilities in a fight.

Again, she could only come to the conclusion that Din Djarin was extremely confident in himself to wear such a thing.

And for some reason, it was also sexy as hell.

_Weird. Never thought I’d be turned on by a set of shiny armour and a cape. I must be getting desperate._

_If he looks even half as good as his armour does, I might just have to jump him just to shut up my stupid hormones._

_Now, if only he’d take his helmet off._

At this point, especially when intros were being made, it would have been polite for him to do so, but she could also see how he would keep it on if he weren’t comfortable with the situation. _And standing in a room with a few dozen lightsabre wielding Jedi would definitely qualify for any legend-raised Mando._

_I guess I’ll just have to show him that taking off his helmet won’t get him killed._

So the instant she could introduce herself without interjecting too rudely, Sabine did so.

She walked up to the intriguing man who stood nearly a head taller than her and had a body mass that looked solid without being overly bulky, taking off her helmet as she did so. She shook her hair out in an automatic gesture as she tucked her bucket under her left arm. She then stuck her hand out for clasping and smiled warmly at him. “I’m Sabine, by the way. Lady Sabine Wren of Clan Wren, House Vizsla.”

He grasped her wrist in the warrior way with a strong grip that was tight enough to make her feel it through the vambrace, but not so tight as to damage anything, the way it should be. His blank visor stared down at her for a few seconds before he finally dropped her hand and said, “Uhhh, Din, but you already heard that.”

Hoping that the pause and somewhat awkward response in his deep voice that made her stomach flutter meant that he was blown away by her makeup free and somewhat sweaty face, Sabine smiled wider. “Yeah. I did. But that’s all right. I don’t mind hearing it again.”

Ezra, the nerf, snorted behind her, apparently amused by her blatant flirting. _Like he can talk. He falls all over himself with corny lines whenever he’s with his precious princess._

Since Din hadn’t followed her example, Sabine tried a more obvious approach. She gestured widely at the people around her. “You can relax here with my family. I promise they don’t bite.”

His helmet followed the gesture of her arm and then returned to her face. He didn’t say a word, so she tried again. “I know it might seem weird for a Mando to call a bunch of Jedi, clones, and other assorted beings family, but they are mine. Hera, over there…” she nodded at the Twi’lek off to the side of Din, “…and her Jedi mate took me in years ago when I needed help the most and the rest just sort of… happened.”

This brought a wave of chuckles from the assembled as Hera said laughingly, “That’s one way to put it, considering it’s your hard-earned credits that built this house for all of us.”

Sabine shrugged negligently, cheeks heating a bit. “My paintings make me way more credits than I could ever possibly need,” she explained to the silent Din. “And my clan doesn’t need them either, so it only seemed fitting.”

His head tilted slightly. “You’re an artist?”

Sabine narrowed her eyes at the vague hint of disdain that had crept into his tone along with curiosity.

“If her awesome armour that rivals rainbows for colour isn’t a dead giveaway, then I don’t know what is,” Ezra said obliviously as he walked up and parked himself beside Sabine, nudging her playfully with an elbow.

She rolled her eyes at the man who’d somehow managed to grow up without actually growing up before looking back at Din. “What my di’kut vod’ika means is, yes, I am an artist, like my father. But…”

“But she’s still a kickass Mando like her mother, Countess Wren, and her cousin, Mand’alor Kryze,” Ezra interjected helpfully, maybe not as clueless as she’d thought. She smiled at him gratefully for sticking up for her and he grinned back.

“I’ve fought beside all three,” Rex added. “And Sabine is more than worthy of either of the titles she is first in line to inherit.”

Silence reigned for a few more seconds as everyone looked to the silver clad warrior, waiting for his response to this.

It wasn’t the awe they were expecting.

“If you’re that shabla important, why in any of the hells did you take your helmet off!?” Din said loudly and almost angrily, gesturing at the bucket under her arm.

“What?!” This came as a chorus from nearly every person in the room, even Chopper and AP-5, but no one’s voice was louder than Sabine’s.

“What do you mean why did I take my helmet off?” she said stepping a fraction closer to Din and glaring up at him in confused anger. “I already told you my family is safe, and it’s flat out rude to hide behind one’s bucket in front of family.”

“But that is not The Way!” Din sounded like he was yelling through gritted teeth.

“Not the way?” Sabine reared back a bit in startlement. “What way?”

“The Way!” he growled, leaning down and into her space. “How do you not know this?”

She shook her head at him helplessly. He sounded crazy, and yet… not. “Please, explain, because I follow the Resol’nare and have never heard of this… Way.”

“You…” he stopped and huffed. “How could you have not have heard of The Way? And what the shab is the Resol’nare?”

“Uhhhhh,” Ezra said softly from beside her, leaning over to whisper more or less in her ear. “Maybe he’s not actually a Mandalorian?”

Wearing a sound enhancing helmet and being so close, of course Din heard Ezra. That visor turned to glare at the young man with a death wish. “Of course, I’m a Mandalorian, Jedi. I’d be more than happy to prove it and wipe the floor with you if you like.”

Sabine snickered quietly as her hormones stood up and took notice again, singing something along the lines of, 'Dangerous. Me likey'.

Ezra backed up a step, shaking his head rapidly. “No. No. I’m good. Sabine and Rex do that often enough as is. And you definitely sound like a Mando now to me. Pardon me for interrupting your fascinating discussion.” He gestured between Sabine and Din. “Please, continue.”

Din made a sound that could definitely be called a growl before he turned his focus back on Sabine. “The Way of the Mandalore is what I was taught as a foundling when I was rescued by members of Death Watch during the Clone Wars.”

“Death Watch!” Ahsoka exclaimed from behind her. Sabine turned her head to see the usually serene Togrutan looking all tense and with a hand hovering over her main lightsabre. From within the safety of her other arm, Wompie just looked curious, his big eyes swiveling between Ahsoka and Din.

Din, wisely, stayed calm as he looked over at Ahsoka. “You know of Death Watch?”

“I’ve had some unpleasant dealings with them, yes.” She narrowed her sky blue eyes on Din. “Don’t make me put you down the way I did many of those murderous curs.”

"Hey!" Sabine protested. "My mother and cousins were part of Death Watch back then. They weren't all bad."

Ahsoka snorted. "I know that now, after living with them for months when I was a teenager before the Siege of Mandalore, but when I first met Bo, she smacked my ass and called me too skinny to be a useful betrothed for Lux."

"What?" Sabine gawked as Rex growled. 

"You never told me that!" 

"I didn't think it was something you needed to know at the time. I still had a thing for Lux back then and he defended me well enough." 

Having actually met the handsome senator from Onderon once during a Rebellion meeting, Sabine could see how Ahsoka would find the Human man fascinating as a teenager. They'd definitely still been good friends years later. 

Rex still didn't look impressed. In fact, he looked even less so as he undoubtedly recalled that Bonteri had occasionally been present during their past endeavours to save the galaxy. "I seriously doubt that," he grumbled. 

“I also don’t think think they were all that bad, but I was only a child when I was with them,” Din said into the awkward silence that had descended as Ahsoka and Rex sort of glared at each other. "They did save my life along with many other foundlings, and I saw them battle the Separatist droids on my birth planet, so they could not have been as terrible as you say.”

Ahsoka, thankfully, relaxed, and nodded once. “That is actually true. There were two factions of Death Watch in the end, one of which left the others and changed their name because they didn’t condone the brutal ways of their leader, Pre Vizsla. Perhaps you were rescued by Bo-Katan’s group, who is now the Mand’alor.”

If Din was surprised by this, he didn’t show it in his body language. “Perhaps. I never met the leader. I was dropped off by my rescuer in a ship with a bunch of other foundlings and taken to Mandalore, and they started teaching me how to fight and survive. Only a few months later, the siege happened and then suddenly the Empire took over and we were evacuated. Us foundlings were scattered amongst a few different tribes or clans. I ended up with a tribe led by Paz Vizsla – no idea if he’s related to that Pre Vizsla, if you were wondering - that had moved to the underground of Nevarro and there they taught me The Way.”

“And what is The Way?” Sabine asked, sooooo curious now. _I’m betting one of the rules has something to do with helmets._

Din turned his focus down to her helmet for a second then looked back at her face pointedly. “The first thing I was taught was that we never take our helmets off in front of other living beings.”

She blinked. “Ever?”

“Ever.”

She blinked again. “Not even to, uhhhhh…” _How do I put this with children present?_ “Engage in some close quarters combat with a like-minded partner?”

Din chuckled, along with all of the people old enough in the room to figure it out. (The sounds from the teenagers like Ahsoka's Padawan, Rowan Freemaker, were more like sniggers or gags than chuckles.) “Not even then.” He paused, and his voice was just a shade huskier when he added, “But there are ways around the rule for those with the imagination to pull it off.” (More chuckles, sniggers, or gags.)

Sabine’s heart skipped a beat at that rumbling voice while her mind supplied the easy answers like blindfolds and pitch blackness. She had the sudden urge to fan herself but suppressed it. Swallowing hard, she said in a slightly strangled tone, “What happens if you do take off your helmet?”

“Then I can never put it back on again nor call myself a Mandalorian.”

“Kriff, that’s harsh!”

“Whoa,” Ezra echoed her thoughts. “No wonder you freaked out when Sabine took off her bucket if that’s what you were thinking.”

“That is exactly what I was thinking,” Din nodded. “I could not understand why a person would give up their privileged life as heir just to greet me.”

Sabine rubbed her forehead, wincing. “I’m sorry for the confusion. But I’m really not in any danger of losing my position in my clan, trust me. All the Mandos that I know take their helmets off in front of others regularly. Keeping it on hasn't been a rule for thousands of years. I think your tribe, if they were a splinter group from Pre Vizla's side of Death Watch, must have decided to take his ideals of returning to the old ways and went even further.”

“Hunh.” Din grunted. “I’m starting to think I was taught by a lunatic or someone who had something to hide and didn’t want to seem strange doing so.”

“That is very likely,” Sabine said sympathetically.

“Which one?”

“Either, but considering you said your leader was a Vizsla I’ve never heard of and I’m from House Vizsla, I’m guessing the later.”

Din’s shoulders sagged ever so slightly as he cursed foully in seven different languages under his breath so that the children couldn’t hear him. (She was impressed with the variety.) 

_After wearing that helmet non-stop for who knows how many years, I don’t blame him one bit. I’d be swearing up a storm too._

To help distract him, she asked gently, “Soooo, what else where you taught? Maybe some of it is actually the Resol’nare and you’re not so far off the norm.”

His helmet focused on her again, and Sabine could practically feel his intense gaze through the dark visor. A flush of heat sent tingles up and down her spine.

_If he can do that to me with a helmet on, what could he possibly make me feel without it?_


	3. Leap of Faith

**A/N: Thanks to new developments with the Mandalorian, I was inspired to spend the last few days giving Grogu a new origin story in my Flame of Hope universe, rewriting and adding a huge chunk to chapter 1 of this story, and redoing a smaller but no less significant part of chapter 2. Feel free to go back and read them again if you like. :P**

* * *

**Leap of Faith:**

Din didn’t know what to do now. For the most part, the Resol’nare that Sabine lived by was the same as the code he’d been taught from childhood; the Way of the Mandalore. The only real exception had to do with the helmet rule.

They’d both been raised to respect and wear their armour with pride. Both had been taught Mando’a and were expected to use it at all times when not in the company of outsiders who did not speak it. Both been taught to defend oneself and one’s family and clan to their very last breath. To raise one’s children as honourable Mandalorians. To do whatever is necessary to ensure the welfare of the clan, including taking paying jobs that one might not necessarily like. And finally, if ever called upon by the true leader of all Mandalorians, the one and only Mand’alor - to go to war or whatever else they needed - one was expected to heed the call with all haste and honour.

Despite all this, he still felt like they were worlds apart in their belief systems and he was having a hard time processing the fact this helmetless woman in front of him was every bit as much a Mando as he was, probably even more so, since she was heir to one of the ancient bloodlines and to the shabla Mand’alor herself.

“Sooooo, now what?” Sabine said, looking up at him with curiosity and sympathy in her big amber eyes. _Eyes that I could happily spend forever looking into_ , he thought with dawning horror due to the fact that he might actually be starting to accept that helmets don’t actually have to stay on. Not if it meant that he could actually gaze appreciatively at a face as beautiful as hers. _To keep such perfection covered all the time would be a damn shame._

 _But… It’s not The Way!_ his ingrained training screamed back at him.

Din glanced around at the dozens of equally curious and expectant faces also watching him and felt panic starting to set in. It was not an emotion he was used to. Nor one he liked very much as his chest tightened painfully and air suddenly seemed hard to come by. “I… I… I don’t… Shab.”

Every cell in his body wanted to bolt from the room, but his pride wouldn’t let him make such a cowardly exit.

Fortunately, Sabine came to his rescue by grabbing his wrist with her free hand and pulling him towards the door, saying, “Come with me. We need to talk.”

As much as he wanted to escape, even if it meant talking more to this confusing female, his recently honed dad instincts had him pulling back as he looked at his son. “But… Wompie. Where I go, he goes.”

Tano smiled reassuringly as she hugged the child. “Don’t worry. He’ll be safe with me until Sabine brings you back. I understand this is hard for you, but you can trust me.”

Despite just meeting the Togrutan, Din’s instincts said he could. There was just something about Tano that all but screamed serene power and a lifetime of experience with more pain than one should have to bear, forging her into living beskar. He swallowed hard and then choked out, “Okay. I trust you.”

She inclined her head slightly in a nod of respect. “Thank you.”

With one final glance at Wompie, who had the cheek to actually wave goodbye at him with a wide grin splitting his tiny face, Din let himself be pulled out of the gym be the small Mando woman.

As soon as the doors closed behind them, she let him go and let him just be as he took several deep breaths to steady his racing heart. He counted the marble tiles on the floor as he did so, unwilling to meet her gaze, afraid of any critical judgement he might see.

After a minute or two, he finally worked up the courage to glance up and found her studiously inspecting the inner workings of her helmet, giving him the illusion of privacy as he worked out his own demons. “Thank you,” he said softly in Mando’a. “I’m good now.”

She glanced up and smiled sweetly before she plunked her colourful helmet on her head. That one action alone was enough to both make him mourn the loss of her emotion-filled expressions and set his teeth on edge because it went against a code that had been all but rammed into his brain for the last two decades. “Good,” She replied in the same language. “Because I have something to show you.”

He glanced at the gymnasium door, still reluctant to leave Wompie behind, but he’d just said he trusted Tano; he couldn’t take that back now. “All right.” As she started walking with a ground covering stride that belied her short stature and one his usual pace had no trouble keeping up with without any adjustments, his curiosity had him asking, “What is it?”

Her visor turned to look up at him. “Something that I think will help you with your dilemma.”

Curiosity truly piqued now, he resigned himself to simply saying, “If you say so.”

He was sure she was grinning at him when she said, “I do.”

A strangely comfortable silence settled between them as they left the house and approached the silver, orange, and purple Kom’rk that he just now realized bore many similarities to her armour. She walked into the ship and he followed, gaze flitting everywhere as he took in the beautiful machine. He’d never been inside a Mandalorian made ship before, and he was in awe of the workmanship. Every line was beautiful in its efficient, arrow-like simplicity. Each feature on the inside was made with care and quality materials.

And the walls were covered in graffiti art.

“Your work?” he asked, gesturing to a picture of flying owl that matched the small one on her shoulder guard. _She is definitely an artist. A skilled one, too._

Sabine glanced at the painting as they passed it by and nodded. “Yes. I get bored during long hyperspace flights. Unfortunately, the walls suffer for it.”

His gaze landed on another picture, this one a stylistic cartoon of the green haired boy at a much younger age being tossed in the air by the laughing Lasat he’d yet to learn the name of. “I wouldn’t say so. You’re very good.”

She looked at him again as they walked into the cockpit and she disconnected her small jetpack from her back. “Thank you. My art pays the bills, anyway,” she said with a soft laugh and then settled into the pilot’s chair after leaning the painted hardware against the back of it.

He huffed as she started flicking switches to start up the ship. “If that ‘house’ back there and all the people in it are any indication, you do more than pay the bills.” _You take care of your family._

She glanced at him again and laughed again. “That’s true. My real paintings are now on display in several galleries around the galaxy.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal. “But they still don’t bring in half what my father’s paintings do. Just one of his paintings would feed the entire clan for a year if they ever got that desperate. But right now, his credits are being used to fund Bo’s campaign against the remnants of the Empire and her quest to retake Mandalore for our people.”

Din knew that Mandalore had fallen in the Great Purge, but he hadn’t known that other’s of his kind were trying to get their planet back. _It certainly isn’t something Vizsla mentioned, that’s for sure. And if anyone would have known, it would have been him. He was supposed to have been born on the planet to an influential clan, after all._ “That is a worthy cause, cursed as the planet may be. At least we would have our pride back. I would be interested in assisting with this now that my quest to return Wompie to others of his kind has been fulfilled.”

Sabine shot him another look before directing the Kom’rk into the air. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say. There aren’t enough of us left. I’m actually here at the moment to talk with Ahsoka about asking for the Ghost Order’s help with the upcoming final battle we feel is coming soon. I just haven’t had the chance yet, and now she’s going to be distracted by Wompie for a bit, so we might as well take the time to work some things out.”

He didn’t ask what those things could be, because he already had a good idea of what they were; namely, his reluctance to acknowledge that The Way wasn’t the only way.

That strangely easy silence took over again. He wondered why it didn’t feel awkward as he watched the clouds zip by below them as they flew around what felt like half the planet at impressive speeds. Speeds his ancient Razor Crest could never hope to attain. He was more than a little jealous and itching take over piloting the large starfighter himself. 

Sabine was an enigma to him, what with her helmet removing and colour-filled ways. And yet, she felt familiar too. She walked like a warrior. He knew from some brief observations that she also fought like a warrior. She even had the temper of a warrior. In short, she felt like a Mandalorian. Just… a little different.

And there was something else about her that drew him, beyond her beauty and intelligence and skills. It took him a few minutes of musing to figure it out, but he grinned to himself when he did. _She reminds me of Vizla’s riddur! She has the same air of quiet leadership that you don’t notice so much until you suddenly find yourself doing her bidding. Vizsla was the acknowledged founder of the Tribe, but we all knew that our talented armourer was the real voice of command in our covert._

_Any male who chose to say the vows with Sabine would undoubtedly also end up as the second in command in their household._

_And possibly of our entire people, if she actually is the chosen heir of the Mand’alor._

Taking advantage of the 360 degree HUD in his helmet, he studied the woman beside him without appearing to do so. Her slender curves were most pleasing to look at, no question. And the memory of her dark amber eyes would stick with him for a long time to come. _Maybe that wouldn’t be the worst fate to befall a man. The rewards would certainly make it with it._

Just imagining the sweet privilege of running his hands and mouth over her bare skin had his temperature rising. Among other things.

He shifted slightly in his chair and forced himself to concentrate on the clouds again before things actually did get awkward. This happened to coincide with Sabine sending her ship down through the clouds and back towards the ground, which made it easier to turn his attention to other things.

They were flying towards a huge range of the strangely shaped cone mountains that were unique to this world as far as he knew. He’d seen another, smaller range on his approach to the Capital City spaceport, as well as some random ones that had scattered themselves wherever they pleased in the grassy landscape. Din found them amusing in their completely useless appearance. They weren’t even particularly picturesque, at least not compared to some of the majestic mountain ranges he’s seen on either planets. _Most of these lumps barely qualify as an actual mountain, I bet._

Sabine flew to nearly the edge of the range before she descended to almost ground level. He had no idea where she was going if it wasn’t to run directly into a cone mountain – causing him more than a moment of alarm - when suddenly the landscape he was looking at parted and slid open to reveal a hangar as big as a Star Destroyer. “Cloaking technology?” he almost squeaked in surprise. “You managed to cloak a hangar big enough to house…” He paused as he took in the vast array of ships parked within; Mandalorian, Imperial, Corellian, and even a few of Mon Calamari and Nubian design. “A whole shabla fleet?!”

“I did,” she said smugly as she found a parking space amongst a group of other Kom’rks, parking beside one painted in silver and gold.

His jaw dropped. “Wait, you, as in… you?”

Sabine’s shoulders shook gently with laughter as she powered down her ship. “Yes, as in… me. Painting is my passion, but I also have an engineering degree in experimental technology. And a few other degrees in other fields,” she added almost absently as she swung her chair around to face him.

Whether she was a true Mandalorian or not, his respect for this woman flew up several notches. And his desire to have her for his own. _If I find out she’s already chosen a riddur, I think I might cry._ “Osik,” he breathed reverently. _She’s a shabla genius, isn’t she._

Tearing his gaze off her, wishing she’d take her helmet off and cursing himself for it, he focused on the hangar. Or more accurately, the people wandering around in it, some with purpose, and others just strolling as they talked to each other.

Aside from a few in coveralls who had to be mechanics, nearly everyone was wearing Mandalorian armour. And only about half of them actually had their helmets on. The rest were carrying them tucked under their arm as Sabine had earlier. The sight of even more proof that he’d been raised by a Tribe with their own agenda that didn’t match the rest was nearly heartbreaking.

And freeing.

_I… I can really take my helmet off and not lose who I am._

“Where are we?” he asked in a voice that had to work to make it past the lump in his throat.

Sabine rose and put a hand on his shoulder as she looked out through the transparisteel as well. “This is the Mandalorian Resistance, Din. And for most of us, our home until we take our planets back.”


End file.
